


Our Daughters

by kams_log



Series: Destiel Prompts & One Shots [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Coffee Shops, First Meetings, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4366121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/kams_log
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Emma's first year at school. To say Dean was nervous was an understatement. But after a chance meeting with a man with sex black hair and electric blue eyes, Dean finds himself calming and relaxing in minutes. Over the next month, they continue to meet and get to know each other. </p><p>However, after Emma gets into her first fight at school, Dean's horrified to see that same sex black hair waiting in the principle's office. Emma got into a fight with Claire Novak, Castiel's daughter.</p><p>How much more awkward can things get?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Daughters

**Author's Note:**

> hello yes please enjoy

“Now remember,” Dean said as he zipped up his daughter’s snug red jacket. Her bright pink backpack was settled over her shoulders, and everything about her said she was ready for her first day of school. Well, everything except for the enormous mean pout on her lips. “Be nice to your teachers, give everybody a chance, and have lots of fun. Okay?”

Emma huffed and waved her small arms at her sides, looking for all the world that she’d rather be anywhere else. She’d made as much clear on the drive to school.

“Okay,” she grumbled, but her high pitched tone only made Dean smile. He kissed her forehead and pushed back a strand of blonde hair from her face.

“You’re gonna’ do great. What are you?”

Emma bit her lip, fighting back a grin. “A warrior.”

“I’m sorry what?”

Emma’s face turned bright red, her fists tightening, and she squared her feet and said loudly and confident, “I’m a warrior!”

“That’s right,” Dean beamed. “A very beautiful warrior. You can handle anything, right?”

“Right,” she replied, and this time she looked a little braver, a little more ready. Dean smiled and stood, patting her shoulder once before nodding to the door where all the students were rushing in.

“You know your way in?” Dean asked one more time, just to be sure.

Emma rolled her eyes, already beginning to inherit his and uncle Sam’s sass and know-how.

“Yeah,” she groaned. Her smile remained fixed in place now. Dean knew she was ready.

“Have fun, sunshine. I’ll be here right after school.”

“Yeah daddy,” she grinned back. She wrapped her arms around his legs and squeezed tight. Dean hugged her back, and then watched as she ran off to join her fellow classmates.

He felt a pang of loneliness, watching her go. Ever since she was born, Dean was nearly inseparable from his daughter. He was determined to never miss a thing. He was there for her first tooth, her first steps. He was lucky enough to be present for her first word, “Moose!” Something she exclaimed while tugging her uncle Sammy’s hair.

Nothing could get Dean off the floor laughing that day. Emma had clearly heard the nickname one too many times over the dinner table. Dean was never prouder.

And now she was gone, off to actually grow up and learn more than Dean could teach her on his own. He would be counting the hours until school got out and he could snatch her up off her feet once more.

Dean called her a snuggle bug. Sam liked to say she got it from her dad. Dean would like to punch him.

But the school bell was ringing, and soon Dean found himself alone on the school grounds. It was time to go.

With a heavy sigh, he went back to his Impala and hit the road.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He couldn’t imagine going home, working on his website and making calls with Charlie and clients. Charlie had already offered to take his load for the day, knowing how important Emma’s first day at school was to him. So Dean was free to go anywhere he pleased, and sitting at home didn’t sit right with him.

Instead, he found himself parking in front of some coffee shop he’d never heard of. He sighed. There was nothing to lose, and he could use the distraction of a new place. Maybe he could sort out some of his new work ideas for the rest of the week.

Inside the coffee shop was like walking through an ant farm. It was busy and crowded with hipsters and college students. Barely any adults older than twenty-five could be seen in the building, and Dean suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable. He didn’t know what he was doing until he suddenly found himself at the front of the line, staring down at some chipper blond headed boy ready to take his order.

Dean glanced down and swallowed hard. He wouldn’t mind if hell swallowed him up right about now.

He felt sweat bead on the back of his neck as he looked over the menu presented just at his fingertips. There were five million options, and he wasn’t sure even half of them were in english. Couldn’t they just say coffee, creamer, and small/medium/or large? Why the hell did it have to be so complicated?

“You can order whenever you’re ready, sir.” The boy said politely, patiently.

Dean was vaguely aware the kid had probably already told him that. Dean squinted at his name tag. Alfie.

 _Yeah, thanks Alfie._ That was very helpful.

Just as he was about to apologize and get the hell out of there, he felt a presence pop up beside him. Dean glanced over and stared at the man beside him, all dark hair and electric blue eyes.

If Dean wasn’t so stressed, he probably would have asked the guy for his name, and very definitely his number. Maybe they could even skip to that part later and just find a room?

He had to mentally shake himself, remember they were in a coffee shop, not a bar.

He was going to hell.

“Need help?” The man asked softly, just low enough only Dean would hear. Dean immediately shivered at the tone. The guy sounded like he gargled rocks for breakfast, and his syllabus had to be rolling like thunder. Dean’s distracted mind tried to imagine that voice saying his name.

He shivered again and nodded hard. The man chuckled, and Dean was once again reminded of thunder and lightning. It was pleasant and warm, and went straight to the center of Dean’s chest.

“Any idea what the best thing is here?” Dean gasped, finally. The man nodded and looked ahead at Alfie.

“We’d both like the secret special please,” the mystery man told the young boy. Dean cringed at the cliche option. What was that supposed to be? How the hell did this guy know if the ‘special’ was any good?

But Alfie beamed and looked at them both curiously, and motioned to another employee to get on the drinks.

“Do I… give them my name, or something?” Dean asked after a moment when the mystery man led him to the other end of the counter.

“No, I’m a regular here,” the mystery man replied. “They’ll know who to give it to.”

Dean looked around, raised an eyebrow skeptically. Yeah, those employees would remember this guy in this crowd? Dean doubted it.

But he kept his mouth shut, and the hot mystery man extended a hand and smiled.

“My name’s Castiel,” he said.

Dean fought back a blush and shook the man’s hand. It was firm and secure, and Dean couldn’t help but notice the callouses along the man’s fingers.

“Dean,” he replied after a moment. “Thanks for… that,” he gestured vaguely to the line where he’d been rescued.

The man, Castiel, laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, it gets pretty hectic in here. Especially during the back to school season.” He looked around for a moment, as if suddenly realizing there were no available seats. Dean had noticed a while ago, but figured he could just get back in the Impala and drive… for several hours. Whatever worked.

But Castiel’s eyes lit up when Alfie brought forward their drinks, and he nodded his head to the back of the room.

“Here,” he said, “there’s always a booth open back here.”

Castiel handed him his drink, and Dean stared at it curiously, but followed the man through the mass of students and customers, before his eyes finally landed on a booth set just in front of windows looking out over the street. Dean could see the Impala. He grinned and sat down, not at all minding that Castiel was sitting down in front of him.

The sat in silence for a moment, both looking out the windows, before Dean tilted his head down and took a tentative sip from ‘the special.’

It was… good. It tasted like something sharp, a little spicy, and was warm all the way down.

“Damn,” Dean muttered after a moment, hurriedly chasing down another gulp and grinning.

“I take it you like it?” Castiel asked, smiling in amusement as he sipped his own.

“Hell yeah,” Dean replied. “How’d you know it would be any good? And don’t tell me it’s always good, because I’m picky.”

“I guessed that,” Castiel replied, eyes low and mysterious. Dean felt drawn into them, hanging on every word as the man continued, “I always know what the special is. I pick it out weekly.”

Dean hesitated, eyes widening.

“Wait… what?”

Castiel had enough grace to blush and smile nervously, fingers picking at the coffee lid anxiously. “This is… my shop,” he replied slowly. “First thing I did when I got out of the house. Found an empty building, bought it with all my savings, and started from the ground up. Never thought anybody’d actually like it.”

“Hell,” Dean said, awed. “And with a name like Spirit’s Haven? I don’t think I’d ever be able to take a risk like that. Much less it paying off.”

“Yeah,” Castiel grinned slowly. “I love it just as much as I did then, with only three bucks to my name and just as many customers coming through my door.”

“Well hey, congratulations,” Dean smiled, raising his cup like a cheer. “That’s hard, man. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Castiel replied, toasting back before taking another sip. Dean mirrored the action.

“But, what about you?” Castiel asked, licking his lips to chase the lingering flavor. Dean caught himself staring just in time and glanced away, this time his turn to play with his cup nervously.

He took another sip to stall for time, then gushed, “Well, nothing as impressive as starting a huge business, but a friend of mine talked me into starting a website with her. We make all kinds of things for families, parties, loaning supplies for community events and such. She’s really into LARP-ing and fantasy themes, and I’m good at working with my hands. Somehow we have enough brains to keep things running.”

Castiel stared at him in surprise, a slow smile broadening. It lit up his entire face, and Dean blushed, despite himself.

“Well, that’s impressive to me,” Castiel replied after a moment. “I don’t know much about website design. Next to nothing in fact.”

Dean’s jaw dropped.

“Are you telling me you don’t got a website for this place?”

Castiel shook his head, and Dean almost groaned.

“Dude, when a place gets as big as this, you have to have some kind of marketing. What do you have right now?”

“Well,” Castiel said, thoughtful as he took another sip. “We have newspaper advertisements, sometimes, I suppose. We mostly get by with word-of-mouth.”

“Well, I can’t say that hasn’t worked so far,” Dean said, raising his eyes in amusement. “But hey, if you ever want to expand and maybe get some more young blood in here, you should look me up. Me and Charlie could hook you up.”

“Charlie as in the woman you run your website with?” Castiel asked. At Dean’s nod, Castiel gave a small smile and nodded. “I take it she’s your wife?”

“Wha--Oh, hell no. Don’t let her know you said that,” Dean sputtered a laugh, covering his mouth to avoid spitting out his coffee. That stuff was too good to waste on something this hilarious. “One, she doesn’t play for that team. Two, she’s kind of like the little sister I never knew I wanted.”

Dean could’ve sworn Castiel’s eyes brightened at that, and his face warmed in a bright smile and he nodded.

“Well, I can’t say I’m displeased to hear that, Dean.”

They ended up trading numbers, and blushes when their hands brushed while passing over their own business cards, personal numbers hastily added to the backs before they went back to sharing their coffee.

Dean ended up staying for the next few hours, getting drinks and snacks until Dean finally looked at his watch and realized he had to go. Partings weren’t awkward, but Dean did find himself nearly stalling at the door as Castiel waved him off.

When he picked up Emma after school, he was overjoyed to hear about her day and the friends she made. They talked about it for the rest of the day, going out to get ice cream for her first day success treat.

It wasn’t until Dean was lying in bed that night that he realized he hadn’t worried about Emma once, not for the entire time he sat with Castiel in that booth and talked.

They talked for hours, he suddenly realized. Yet, Dean didn’t feel weird about it at all. Instead he found himself wondering when he could get a good enough excuse to go back again.

As he soon found, he made a habit over the next week of dropping off Emma at school, boosting her confidence and wishing her all the love and luck in the world, going over to Charlie’s to work, and then, coffee at two with Castiel.

Castiel, who’d started to become simply ‘Cas.’ The first time Dean accidentally dropped the nickname, Cas had smiled so bright Dean decided to use it from then on.

It was several weeks, maybe a month and a half of coffee dates later before it happened.

Dean didn’t ever consider them ‘dates,’ per say, but he did like seeing Cas, and he definitely wouldn’t mind if they eventually did get to go on real dates.

In the meantime, Dean scheduled Cas in to his weekly routine. Every day was too much for his budget, but he did manage to see Cas about two or three times a week, work willing.

But as October rolled around, Dean found himself sitting in his and Cas’s booth--when he started calling it theirs he had no idea.

They were talking about the latest decorations, Castiel going through some of the pumpkin and black star designs he’d ordered from Dean and Charlie’s business. He was planning on hanging them up on the walls and ceiling, when Dean’s phone abruptly buzzed.

He looked down, surprised to see Emma’s school number lighting up the screen.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, biting his lip as Castiel set the materials down on the table. “I gotta’ take this.”

Castiel’s phone lit up as well, and he waved it off.

“That’s fine. Business call myself.”

Dean smiled gratefully and walked across the floor, finding a relatively quiet spot in the still ever busy shop, and answered the call.

“Hello, this is Dean Winchester.”

“ _Yes, Mr. Winchester? We need you to come in to the main office. There was an altercation today with your daughter, Emma._ ”

Dean stared, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Altercation? What happened?”

“ _She punched one of her classmates and the two had a fist fight. We’d like you to come in so we can talk about it_.”

 _Talk about it my ass_ , Dean thought, jaw clenching. Really what they’d want to know was if Emma was in a good home situation and where she learned to hit. Nevermind that Dean trained his girl to never hit somebody else unless they were trying to hurt her.

 _You can’t teach a kid to hit_ , Dean’s father always said. You can only teach them how to un-hit. He said that, but then he trained Dean and Sam how to shoot rifles at the age of ten. Dean chalked that one up to, “Do as I say, not as I do.”

So Dean took that knowledge and decided to put it to use. His girl was a fighter. She’d hit if she felt like it. The best Dean could do was teach her how to save it for when it was really important.

He could only hope it was a good reason this time. Otherwise he’d be pissed.

“I’ll be in right away. Thank you.”

He didn’t wait to hear the teacher’s disapproving tone that Dean hadn’t sounded a little more concerned, and turned off the phone. When he returned, Castiel was also off his phone, face severe.

“I have to go--” They said almost simultaneously. They chuckled, and Castiel tried again, “You go ahead. I have to wrap up a few things here before I leave. I’ll call you later?”

Dean’s heart fluttered at that and nodded.

“Yeah. Talk to you later, Cas.”

He didn’t waste time getting into his baby and getting back on the road. The school was only a few miles away, nothing too extreme, but it gave Dean enough time that his true concern finally took root and he began to worry at his fingers, coming up with theories or ideas of why his sunshine Emma would hit another student.

Did they hit her first and the teachers got it wrong? Were they teasing her? Had she been teased all this time and just didn’t tell him about it? Was his little girl actually happy at school? Or had she been playing him all along?

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the familiar tan car he parked next to, and didn’t think twice as he jogged up the walkway and entered the building.

A secretary took one look at his distressed state and seemed to put two and two together. She led him back to the principal’s office, and there Dean found all the breath in his lungs freeze.

In front of him sat the principal, a short weasly man with beady eyes. Beside him was Emma’s teacher, a fierce woman who Dean wasn’t sure if he liked yet or not, and in front of her sat Emma who watched Dean with big scared eyes. But directly to her side, and Dean’s left, stood a tall man with his hand braced on the back of the chair holding Emma’s classmate. The man had sex black hair and electric blue eyes. And that man looked just as shocked as Dean was.

“C-Cas,” Dean stammered. Castiel’s eyes widened, and before he could reply the principal interrupted.

“Oh good, you’ve met,” he said, british accent thick. Dean wondered if he was even American.

“Yes,” Cas said after a moment, visibly swallowing as Dean stepped forward. “We have.”

Dean felt two pairs of eyes staring up at him from the seats, both worried and skeptical.

He took a moment to observe Castiel’s daughter.

Cas had talked about her, of course, just as Dean talked about his sunshine girl. Her name was Claire, and she had blonde hair like Emma, but she had curly hair and ringlets by her ears. She had her father’s eyes, and Dean immediately could see her beauty.

But he could also see the mean bruise on her jawline, and one look at Emma,  he could see a few spots and bruises of her own.

Clearly it’d been a hell of a fight.

“What happened?” Dean finally asked, breaking the awkward tension in the room.

“Well, Mr. Winchester,” Mr. Crowley began, drawling, “Your daughter hit Ms. Claire Novak in the face, and the two got into a fight during class time. Both of the girls have refused to talk about what happened, and we hoped maybe you two could help shed some light on the situation.”

Castiel and Dean immediately both looked down at their respective daughters, and just like that, the girls broke out in pointing fingers and high pitched exclamations.

“She stole my crayons!”

“She said I was mean!”

“She wouldn’t leave me alone!”

“Daddy she hit first!”

The last exclamation was almost said together, and Castiel and Dean shared a worried glance. Clearly this wouldn’t be resolved easily.

“Well,” Crowley said, although he sounded more amused than stern. “If you two know each other, maybe you two can work this,” he gestured vaguely between the girls, “out together. Although, I must ask, how are the home lives?”

“Excellent,” Castiel said without hesitation.

“Awesome,” Dean replied as well. They glanced at each other, and Dean was surprised to see a growing blush on his friend’s cheeks.

“More details, please,” Crowley crooked his finger. Dean’s skin crawled in annoyance.

“Uh,” Castiel said, slow, “I run my own business, I’m always home when Claire is.”

“Wife in the picture? Girlfriend?” Crowley didn’t look particularly interested, but Dean was.

They’d never actually… talked; at least, certainly not about that.

“Claire’s mother passed away five years ago,” Castiel replied quietly. “But we’ve made due just fine, especially in recent years. Business has gone well.”

Dean’s heart panged in sympathy, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on this new information before all eyes in the room turned to him.

Dean flushed and he shifted awkwardly, unused to such concentrated attention. Usually when this kind of thing happened, it was never for good reasons, let alone having it end well.

“And you? Mr. Winchester?” Crowley continued. “Work? Relationships?”

“Well,” Dean started, suddenly understanding Castiel’s hesitation to begin. “I run a business with an old friend, we work a lot in the community and for private parties and organizations. Nothing too big that I’m kept away from Emma here.” He patted the back of Emma’s chair, encouraged by her and Castiel’s matching smiles. “Uh, I’m not in any relationships right now. My brother Sam is a lawyer, but he spends a lot of time with Emma and babysits if I ever have to work late.”

Dean didn’t want to mention why there were no relationships. Emma’s mother wasn’t… committed. As soon as Emma was born her mother had disappeared without a word or a trace. God knew Dean had done everything in his power to track her down, at least to get some closure, but there was nothing, and he had a baby girl to look after. So that’s what he did.

He had a few strings of one night stands, but Dean was pretty sure he’d never have a real relationship again.

At least, that’s what he thought. But looking at Castiel across the room, giving him sympathetic looks and reassuring smiles, Dean was tempted, not for the first time, to try again.

The thought alone, the hope, set something warm and fluttering free in his chest. He chased after it and turned back to Crowley, who didn’t look at all pleased with Dean’s answer.

“But if you want to know why two girls are perfectly capable of violence,” Dean continued, suddenly, feeling brave. “Then I would say it’s because two girls understand when they feel threatened and hurt, that they’re going to lash out. I’ll talk to Emma and see about how we can manage those feelings and do better in the future. But it is what it is. I’m not going to apologize to you for her actions, she can do that herself. We’ll just see if it’s worth apologizing for later.”

He turned to look down at Emma and patted the chair.

“Come on sunshine, we’re done here,” he said.

“Wait, sir--” the teacher snapped, but Dean held up a hand. She stopped speaking and Dean reached down for Emma’s hand.

Good God, she was only five years old. All this trouble over a fight. Maybe Cas would be understanding and they could figure something out. Together.

Emma took his hand and they walked out. He smiled when he heard Castiel repeat a similar sentiment and watched as the man and his daughter followed them out.

They met up in the main hall, Emma still holding on fiercely to his hand, and Claire up in Castiel’s arms and hugging him tight.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then burst into laughter.

“So, your daughter,” Dean chuckled, nodding to the girl who was still staring at him skeptically.

“And yours as well,” Cas grinned.

“Think we all need to talk some things out?” Dean asked after a moment.

Castiel nodded.

“Maybe over ice cream?”

Immediately, the girls both looked up in shock and excitement. Any trace of skepticism over their father’s friend was gone, and now they tugged at their jackets and whispered.

“Ice cream?”

“Really?”

“Can we?”

Castiel glanced over at Dean, and Dean grinned.

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” he replied. And then, daring, “And maybe something later?”

Castiel’s eyes brightened, and Dean blushed.

“I’d like that Dean,” he replied. They both smiled at each other and turned toward the front doors.

“Let’s get ice cream.”

After the stop by Dairy Queen, they all went back to Castiel’s house. The girls ran up to Claire’s room, and they ended up getting along just fine once they got to know each other.

Meanwhile, their fathers stood downstairs in the kitchen, blushing and holding hands, and sharing their first kiss. The first of many more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> me: lovefromdean.tumblr.com
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed!


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